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dering if you guys knew someone named Candice from around here.” They looked at each other quizzically and both replied in the negative. “No, but is it someone you were planning on... meeting? Are you waiting for her?” the older one asked, careful to not reveal too much. “Well, yeah, sort of. I just thought you two might know her if you’re from around here.” The prettier girl leaned over and whispered something into her friend’s ear then said, “No, we don’t. Sorry.” I thanked them and trudged back into my car. Several more attempts were made to communicate with The Cunt, as Candy the escort shall be referred to hereinafter. These failed communications were followed by another attempt to dull the quiet misery of the situation with another pull of putrid potion (I could almost taste the regret). Tired of sitting alone in my car, desperation rising with each tick of the clock, I was in want of some company, someone to pass the time with. Glancing over to the two girls at the base of the stairwell, they had stopped paying attention to me and continued their emotive conversation. Following the same procedure as before, as if rehearsed a million times, I made my way towards 59

The Metric Issue 08 - Literary Magazine  
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